


The Heir and His Love

by Kye_Kreole



Series: Olivarry Week 2017 [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dig Sara Roy and Nyssa are here too, Fluff and Angst, League of Assassins - Freeform, M/M, Olivarry Week 2017, general pining, just not major enough characters, probably some other earth like 64 or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:49:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kye_Kreole/pseuds/Kye_Kreole
Summary: There is only one person Al Sah-him has ever wanted in his life.Olivarry Week 2017 Day 1





	The Heir and His Love

Al Sah-him entered the chamber of the Demon’s Head. Only a select few were permitted to enter under any circumstance. As Heir to the Demon, Al Sah-him could enter at his leisure.

Ra’s al Ghul stood at the opposite side of the room beside the Lazarus Pit. The pit was the reason behind the man’s extended life, allowing him to find a worthy heir to the Demon’s Head ring.

“Master,” Al Sah-him bowed. “You sent for me.”

“Yes, my heir,” the long-lived assassin said. “I wished to spar with you. It has been a while since we’ve fought hand-to-hand.”

Al Sah-him nodded then removed the array of weapons already on his person. When he was freed, he took a stance and waited for his Master to begin.

Ra’s al Ghul had watched his heir’s progress within the League. He was lethal with a variety of weapons but preferred the bow and arrow, thus bringing about his name. When Ra’s had taken over the training, Al Sah-him soon learned how he’d become Ra’s al Ghul.

It had taken two years, but Al Sah-him became equal with Ra’s in all but title. A title he was poised to inherit.

When they finished – Ra’s finally calling enough – Al Sah-him prepared to leave.

Before the doors opened, Ra’s stopped him, “How is your love?”

Al Sah-him stopped. Of course, his Master knew where he was headed. He’d been there day and night for weeks, leaving only to get food and water and to perform basic training.

“He recovers slowly, Master. The burns were extensive and still need time to heal before he can return to training.”

“Perhaps he might not heal,” Ra’s mused. Al Sah-him’s jaw tightened. He knew his Master disapproved of the relationship, but Al Sah-him had proven that it did not matter and he didn’t care what Ra’s al Ghul thought. Besides, Al Sah-him was the only man Ra’s had deemed worthy to take his place as the bearer of the Demon’s Head ring. So, Ra’s chose to ignore the relationship in favor of pushing his heir to his limits and beyond.

“The scars will not heal completely,” Al Sah-him informed the man, “but he will return to his training and progression. I swear by it.”

“For your sake, I hope he does,” the man waved him off.

Al Sah-him walked the halls he’d known for years not really looking where he was going because all he cared about was where he ended up. By his side...

 

...Al Sah-him had been sixteen when the young man had been brought to Ra’s to be considered as a candidate to join the ranks of the League. He’d begun his private training by then and stood by his Master’s side. The moment the brown-haired boy had entered the room, Al Sah-him knew he had to have him.

The boy’s limbs hung long and bore little to no muscle. He walked as if unsure of his steps. His face looked forward but his gaze looked down, wanting to appear confident but unable to commit fully.

He was truly beautiful, but Al Sah-him was the only one who saw that beauty. He had always been the only one who had seen that beauty.

Luckily, Ra’s al Ghul saw potential.

“Why do you wish to join us, child?”

The boy looked at the assassin. Green eyes shone in the fire light. That was when Al Sah-him fell for the boy.

“My parents were killed,” he answered in a strong tone, “by a man. He said that he didn’t kill children, but he would come for me when I became a man. I wish to learn to fight so that when the time comes, he will be the one to die.”

Ra’s al Ghul studied him closely, looking for lies or doubts. He found none.

“What is your name, child?”

“Barry Allen,” he answered.

“Until you become stronger and can choose your name, you shall be Al Qa-wi.”

The boy nodded, and was escorted to his new quarters at the order of Ra’s al Ghul. Al Sah-him watched him go, wonder coloring his thoughts but showed none of it on his face.

From then on, Al Sah-him would find Al Qa-wi while the boy trained. He didn’t have the strength yet, but the boy was determined to get it.

Al Sah-him watched him grow stronger, faster, and more proficient with all weapons he endeavored to master. When he was sixteen - four years after he’d come to them - he was the quickest of all his age. His preferred weapon; daggers allowed him to get in close to his opponents, getting close to his opponents. He knew how to cause the most amount of damage with the least amount of force.

When he was seventeen he was brought before Ra’s al Ghul again to be tested. They stood in the great chamber surrounded by full members of the League. Al Qa-wi and his opponents only had one rule to follow: do not kill.

Al Qa-wi fought dozens of people, for hours he fought relentlessly, until Ra’s signaled to stop. The young man ended his fighting and stepped up before the Demon’ Head.

“You have progressed quickly, child,” Ra’s congratulated. “Do you remember how you were when you first came to us?”

“I remember my weakness, and I remember the man I told you about, but nothing more exists for me. I am your servant and I desire nothing more than to serve you.”

Ra’s looked pleased with the answer. “That man will not find you here, you know.”

“When I came I wished to prepare myself. Now, all I wish is to serve the Demon’s Head and his heir.”

Al Sah-him felt pleased hearing that. Ra’s seemed to feel the same.

“Everyone who passes their tests are given a new name. You may choose one yourself or I can name your myself.”

“I wish to name myself, Master.”

Surprise washed over the room. It was uncommon to choose one’s own name. Al Sah-him had been the last one to do so and that had been many years ago.

Ra’s looked unfazed. “What is your name?”

“Savitar.”

That caught the leader, thought the only sign of it was a raised brow. Al Sah-him was the only one to notice.

“That is not in our language,” Ra’s questioned.

“No, Master,” the boy agreed, “but it is the best name for me. My tutors and my peers say I’m the fastest man they’ve ever trained and fought. Savitar is renowned for his speed, and I wish to follow the legacy the name bears.”

That seemed to impress the long-lived man.

“Then stand, Savitar, and join our ranks.”

A cheer came from the crowd as Savitar stood and bowed to Ra’s al Ghul. Al Sah-him remained quiet, but in his mind and heart, his was the loudest shout of everyone.

Two years later, Ra’s brought Al Sah-him to a chamber where stood a group of thirty assassins. Ra’s told him to pick five to be his fold. He would train them to protect him and each other. They would be his soldiers as they traveled about the world, cleansing it of evil.

Al Sah-him looked among the faces, recognizing some but passing over many. Then he stopped when he saw the beautiful face of Savitar. His brown hair had grown so long, it was pulled back by a strip of leather, allowing his face to be seen.

“Savitar,” he called without hesitation. The man stepped to the front of the crowd, standing tall with the pride of being chosen first. Al Sah-him looked among the faces.

“Ta-er al-sahfer,” the blond women stepped forward.

“Nyssa,” the woman stepped up beside Ta-er.

“Al Jundi,” the black man joined the line.

“Tir-sana,” the younger man joined the line.

Al Sah-him turned to his Master, who looked on the group with a calculating gaze. Then he nodded and dismissed the other members.

“You will train them.” Ra’s ordered. “Make them your lieutenants. When you inherit my ring, they will be your most trusted generals.”

Al Sah-him nodded and then ushered the group to a room where he began training immediately.

In the year following, a routine would be set: He would train each privately and then as a group. He learned their strengths individually and then made those strengths blend as a unit. By the next spring, Al Sah-him’s lieutenants were a force to be reckoned with. Even Ra’s al Ghul was impressed.

Al Sah-him looked forward to his private sessions with Savitar the most; now he could watch the man without being discrete. Now he could take in his form and character personally. Now he could touch the man however fleetingly. When they sparred there was a different energy than with the others.

Al Sah-him pushed him harder, worked him longer. Savitar reveled in the attention becoming better and better and soon they became comfortable with each other. As they sparred Al Sah-him would notice light touches that weren’t from a weapon or intended to attack - they almost felt loving - but the touch would pass and the attack would return.

The spring turned to summer and Ra’s began to send the group out into the world on assignments. They were quick, efficient, and would return victorious. They were soon known throughout the League as Ghammad Al Sah-him; The Arrow’s Sheath.

As summer passed Ra’s al Ghul began preparations for the winter. When the snow came, Nanda Parbat would be encased in ice and snow. No one - not even the trained assassins - would be able to come and go. Ra’s would send forces to hideouts across the globe so that the League could still function while those who were still training and a select few others would stay in the fortress.

Al Sah-him begged Ra’s to send his group out for the winter, but Ra’s declined, saying that Al Sah-him needed to learn how best to lead during the winter months from Nanda Parbat. He would need to do so when hetook up the mantle of Ra’s al Ghul, so he must learn to stay when the snow fell.

The whole of the League prepared for the long cold months. Those leaving packed all they needed, those staying found extra furs or bedmates to help fight the coming cold.

Al Sah-him had never brought another to his bed during the winter, preferring the feel of soft fresh furs and waiting for the right time to bring his heart’s chosen to his bed.

The days grew shorter and the nights longer. Then night before everyone was to leave, Al Sah-him was training with Savitar. After their final spar, they began to leave.

“Savitar,” Al Sah-him stopped him. Savitar turned back to the man, slight curiosity flitting across his beautiful features.

“I would most happy if you were to join me this winter. I have wanted this for many years but have never felt ready to do so. But now, I wish nothing more than to sleep by your side.”

Savitar looked on him with surprise, but remained quiet.

“If you would prefer another than do not agree to my proposition. You are my only choice, but only if I am your first choice.”

Al Sah-him left then, letting Savitar decide alone. If he wanted to come, then he would.

As night fell over the fortress, Al Sah-him prepared for bed. Just before he removed his clothes to sleep, a knock came at his door.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Savitar slipped through, shutting it quietly behind him by leaning on it. He had removed his armor and was dressed in simple shirt and pants. He carried only a dagger on his hip.

“Savitar,” Al Sah-him whispered, stepping in front of the man. He placed his hands on either side of Savitar’s head, leaning as close as possible without actually touching.

“You said to come if you are my first choice,” Savitar murmured, his breath dancing across Al Sah-him’s own lips.

“Am I?” the man asked.

Savitar looked him in the eye as he said, “You are also my only choice.” He grabbed the man by the back of his neck and pulled him into a desperate kiss. Al Sah-him pulled him off the door and closer to him. That night, Al Sah-him slept with Savitar. Later, Savitar admitted it was the first time he’d touched anyone in such a way, and Al Sah-him was the only person he’d ever wanted to touch in that way.

The winter raged outside, cold and unforgiving, for months but Al Sah-him’s bedroom had never been warmer. He continued training his soldiers every day. He never let up on Savitar, proving to Ra’s that his feelings wouldn’t prevent him from seeing mistakes.

The winter melted and spring brought back the forces of Nanda Parbat. Al Sah-him begged Savitar to remain by his side. Savitar merely smiled and said, “I would want nothing more.”

As summer replaced spring, Ra’s al Ghul called Al Sah-him to his side.

“I am told Savitar continues to stay in your quarters.”

“He does, Master.”

“Why?”

“I asked him to.”

A twitch of his brow was the only indication of Ra’s al Ghul’s surprise. As he studied Al Sah-him, disappointment colored his face. A purposeful choice made by the stoic man.

“Has my heir really fallen prey to the weakness that is love?”

Al Sah-him started. “Weakness, Master?”

“Love causes blindness, complacency, lackadaisical actions. Love destroys more than it builds. I believed you strong, but apparently you are weak.”

Ra’s turned from the man, signaling the end of the conversation, but Al Sah-him would have none of it.

“I have loved him from the moment he came here.” This made Ra’s pause. “My love for him has pushed me to become stronger for him. My love for him made me push him to become stronger. We do not require each other’s protection, but we still protect each other. My love does not blind me. It makes everything clearer, sharper. It brings me focus and drive. My chosen are the greatest of your followers, because we trust and love each other. My love is not weakness. It is my greatest strength.”

Ra’s turned to look at him, seeing no falsehood on his features.

“You wish him to be yours?” the man asked his heir.

“I wish it as much as I wish for your pride in me,” he bowed.

“Very well then,”

And that was that. Al Sah-him returned to his chambers to find Savitar sharpening his daggers. Al Sah-him wasted no time picking up the man and showing his love all through the night.

Summer came and Ghammad Al Sah-him went on missions that all ended in success. They would return joyful and ready for the next assignment.

One night after they had returned from one such mission, scouts ran into the receiving chamber of Ra’s al Ghul. They told of him and Al Sah-him of a man who waited outside the fortress, threatening the League.

“Why has he not been killed?” Ra’s asked unimpressed.

“He has killed many of our own.” one man said. “He is somehow able to manipulate lightning like he is a storm.”

“What does he want?” Al Sah-him inquired.

“He demands we hand over a man named Barry Allen.”

Al Sah-him and Ra’s al Ghul both tensed at the name. A name that hadn’t been uttered in years, nearly lost to time. When the messenger said it though, it rang in their heads pulling the memory out from where it was hiding all this time.

Ra’s turned to a woman and told her to bring Savitar to the room. They waited in silence until the man came. He bowed to Ra’s and his heir, kneeling on one knee.

“Master,” he greeted remaining on the ground.

“Do you remember the circumstances that brought you to us, Savitar?” Ra’s asked.

“Barely,” Savitar answered. “It is like a hazy dream now.”

“The man who killed your parents,” Ra’s reminded, “who vowed to kill you is here waiting to do so.”

Savitar’s head snapped up to look at his Master.

“Are you ready to fight him?”

Savitar looked between Ra’s and Al Sah-him. Then, his face hardened into resolve.

“I am.”

“Good,” Ra’s said. He turned to Al Sah-him, “Escort him out.”

There was a hidden message in his eyes. If Savitar fails; kill the man. Al Sah-him nodded and stepped up to Savitar’s side, showing his support and faith in the man. They stopped by their chambers and got all the weapons he needed. Then they made their way down and out of the impressive fortress.

In the center of the canyon that hid the League stood a blond man. He carried no weapons yet stood with confidence. He smiled maniacally at the two men. The assassins stopped a few yards from the man.

“Little Barry Allen, all grown up,” the man called, grin widening. “Who is this? Your bodyguard?”

“Who he is, is not your concern, Thawne,” Barry replied stepping forward and unsheathing two of the many daggers on his person. “You are here to fight me.”

“I’m here to kill you Barry,” the he crazed man announced.

“One of us will die tonight,” Savitar agreed, then he moved.

His steps were quicker than ever. He closed the distance to the man in a fraction of a second and would’ve driven a dagger right in the man’s heart if the electricity hadn’t blinded him.

The lightning glowed red as it traveled across the man’s body. The crazed grin looked bloody in the unnatural light. He simply watched as Savitar missed his target, merely grazing his opponent’s arm. When the blade connected, the lightning shot up towards Savitar. He released the blade but not before his hand was touched by the electricity.

He retreated from the man, eyeing him up and down, still holding the second blade.

“You can’t kill me boy,” Thawne cackled. “No one can kill me, I am a god.”

Savitar wasn’t fully listening. He watched Thawne step casually, watched the lightning move across his body, watched for any weakness.

Al Sah-him watched the assassin smirk.

“You are no god, Thawne,” he countered, “I am.”

He moved so fast, Thawne couldn’t even move out of the way. The dagger sliced right into his heart.

“I am Savitar, god of speed, and your scourge on this world will come to an end.”

Barry held the dagger in the man’s chest. He was so focused on the kill he didn’t see the man’s left hand raise.

“Savitar!”

Electricity traveled up the hand into Savitar’s face. The scream he let out was inhuman. The red lightning course through the man’s body.

Al Sah-him drew his bow and shot the man’s raised wrist. The force of the hit made the man let go and stumble down onto his back, while Savitar fell away from the man, free of the unnatural lightning.

Al Sah-him ran up and shot more arrows into Thawne’s body until his quiver was empty and the man was truly dead. He dropped his bow and nearly fell on top of Savitar.

“My love, are you alright?” he asked, pulling the man into his arms and standing to run.

“Is he dead?” Savitar croaked, tucking his head into Al Sah-him’s neck.

“Yes, my love. You killed him. You are free of him.”

Savitar remained quiet after that and Al Sah-him ran into the fortress calling for healers. He barreled through the halls not stopping for anyone.

He was going to live. Savitar was going to live...

 

...Oliver stood just outside the doors to their chambers, remembering the days that followed the duel. The healers had gotten to him just in time and were able to stop any internal bleeding. They were also able to determine that his brain still functioned normally. It was a pure miracle he was still alive, but he was, and Al Sah-him was happier for it.

Ra’s al Ghul had offered the Lazarus Pit, but Al Sah-him refused. He’d told Savitar about the Pit and the man had made him swear to never use it on him ever.

He had considered using it in his frantic run through the halls but knew Savitar would never forgive him for it.

He pushed open the doors and slipped in, quietly shutting them behind him.

Savitar lay in the bed surrounded by the furs of their hunting adventures. Al Sah-him removed his weapons and armor and moved to sit on the bed by his love.

The healers promised the scars along his body would heal, leaving almost no trace of ever existing. The scars on his face - where Thawne had released his powers mercilessly - would never fade, only heal and be strong enough to not reopen on their own.

Al Sah-him didn’t care about the scars. He loved the man, not the face, though his face was no less beautiful now than the first day he’d laid eyes on it.

The inhabitants of Nanda Parbat whispered stories of what happened to the man. Savitar had been faster and deadlier even than lightning. He’d fought pure energy and won with his scars as a trophy. This man had done the impossible and he was controlled by Al Sah-him himself.

Al Sah-him would scoff at the last part. He controlled Savitar no more than he could control the sky or the sun. Savitar was his own force. Al Sah-him was just a man who knew the extent of that force.

Al Sah-him gently kissed the cheek that wasn’t scarred, rousing Savitar from his sleep.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Al Sah-him apologized, watching the man wake.

“Don’t be,” Savitar chastised. “I’ve slept so much recently, that being awake almost feels like a dream.”

Al Sah-him smiled. “I promise you’ll be back to training soon enough. We just can’t have you bleeding everywhere.”

“I wouldn’t bleed everywhere,” Savitar argued, looking up at the blond man.

“You won’t,” Al Sah-him replied, “when you’re fully healed.”

Savitar only groaned at that and turned his face to lay on his not scarred side. Al Sah-him looked over the man. He laid naked on the bed, covered from the waist down by furs. Al Sah-him wanted to kiss every inch of his skin, but was hesitant to do so, for it could cause more pain than pleasure for the scarred man.

Al Sah-him laid himself by Savitar, laying on his right side to watch Savitar’s beautiful face.

“How much longer?”

“The healers say the scar tissue should be built up enough by next week,” Al Sah-him recited. “And the following week should see you back to training and exercise.”

“Just in time for the autumn prep,” Savitar mused. “Followed by winter cooped up in the fortress.”

“You’re not the only one not looking forward to another winter here,” Al Sah-him reminded. “I had been going out for years before Master stopped it. At least we won’t spend it alone.”

“True.” Savitar smiled and then drifted off into thought. Al Sah-him just watch him, memorizing his face again.

“What were you called?” Savitar asked.

“What?” Al Sah-him asked, sitting up onto his elbow to better look at the man.

“Before I came here, I was Barry,” the man explained. “Who were you before you came here?”

Al Sah-him felt memories long forgotten rise to the surface. Faces and names from his life before. He had still been a child, it had hardly left an impression, except for a name.

“Oliver.” he whispered. “That’s all I remember from before.”

Savitar nodded, understanding. “I never thought about where you must have come from before. It never mattered. Then Thawne came and it felt like my past had finally come back to haunt me.”

“I know,” Al Sah-him comforted, placing a hand on the other man’s arm. “You remember more of your past than I do. For me, Oliver died years ago. Al Sah-him is who I am and who I always will be.”

“And I love Al Sah-him,” Savitar insisted, rising to push Al Sah-him onto his back and lay on the broader man’s chest. “I never knew Oliver, and I don’t care whether I do or not.”

Al Sah-him smiled at that, then remembering something. “I did fall for Barry.”

Savitar’s head raised and stared at the man in confusion.

Al Sah-him explained, “I fell for you when you first came. I fell for Barry, but,” Al Sah-him rose and traded positions with Savitar, looking down at his lean, lithe form, “I fell in love with Savitar.”

The man underneath smiled, and pulled Al Sah-him down for a light kiss. They parted, and breathed upon each other’s lips.

“My love, Al Sah-him.”

“My love, Savitar.”


End file.
